32
Floss
In some ways, telling Neva was harder than telling Grace. She broke down in tears, which perhaps was to be expected, but I didn’t expect it of Neva. Some of it may have been to do with her hormones, but I suspected it was more than that. I was coming to realize that Grace was a lot stronger than I’d given her credit for. And Neva, perhaps, was more fragile.
I remained by her side until she fell asleep, but as the sky began to darken, I thought of Lil. I was desperate for her, desperate to tell her I had a great-granddaughter, desperate to tell her I’d told Grace the truth. I wrote a note to Neva, telling her to call any time, day or night, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Then I slipped out.
Back home, I had only just turned the key in the lock when the door opened. Lil stood behind it in her house slippers with a tea towel draped over her shoulder.
“You’re home!” she said. “Come in, come in.” I followed her into the foyer. “You must be starving.”
She disappeared into the kitchen before I could say a word. I noticed two places were set at the dining table. The sight of it warmed my heart. And although I wasn’t in the least bit hungry, I’d have happily eaten an entire horse if that’s what Lil produced.
“Salad,” she said when she returned, setting a glass bowl in the center of the table. “I thought you’d probably want something light.”
Lil smiled and a small part of my heart, a broken part, snapped back against the whole—a perfect fit. “You thought right, dear.”
We sat in comfortable silence, our smiles speaking the words we couldn’t. I had no secrets anymore. At eighty-three, I finally understood what it was to have peace. I wanted to bottle it—swaddle it—and share it with the world. I no longer had anything to fear.
As we finished our salad, the doorbell rang. A few moments later, Grace appeared at the head of the table.
“Grace!” I wiped the corners of my mouth on a napkin. “Hello.”
“Can I have a word, Mom?”
I glanced at Lil. She was already standing up and clearing the dishes away. “Of course,” I said. “Come into the sitting room.”
We sat down on opposite ends of the couch. The act of sitting there with my daughter, so comfortable only a day ago, now felt awkward.
“I want to thank you for telling me the truth,” she started.
I tensed. I knew what was coming. She’d want to know more about Bill. More about Elizabeth. She’d want family trees, photographs. And why shouldn’t she? She had a family history to reconstruct. The least I could do was to help her.
“—but if it’s all right with you, I’d like to pretend you didn’t.”
I stared at her. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s an amazing story. But what you did for me just proves that, if you weren’t my mother to begin with, you are now. I’d have liked to know Elizabeth, but … I can’t say I’m unhappy with how things worked out. Sometimes things happen exactly the way they are supposed to.”
“Grace—” I struggled to take a breath. “Really? I thought when I told you this, you’d be determined to take off for England, to … I don’t know … find answers. I’d understand if you did. Are you sure you don’t want to?”
“I’ll never say never,” she said. “But right now I’m pretty happy with the status quo. I have a good relationship with my daughter. I have a precious new granddaughter. I have a wonderful husband. And—” Her smile was almost shy. “—I have a mother who literally went to hell and back to protect me.”
Grace was crying and, I realized, so was I. I exhaled. “If you’re sure. But if you change your mind, and I can help you, just let me know.”
I glanced at the archway a split second before Lil appeared in it. After all our time together, I could anticipate her movements.
“I’m going to head on up to bed and give you two some privacy,” she said. “Nice to see you, Grace.”
“No,” I said, struggling to my feet. “Don’t go. I’d really like it if you stayed.”
Lil looked at Grace, who now was also on her feet. She nodded vigorously. “Yes, Lil. Please stay.”
“No. You two need time. You don’t need me hanging around—”
“Nonsense,” Grace said. She hooked Lil’s arm in her own and brought her back to the sofa. Lil’s cheeks, I noticed, pinkened a little. “You’re family. And we don’t have any secrets from family.”
“No, we don’t,” I said, taking Lil’s other hand. “Not anymore.”